Severus looked out over his classroom, frowning slightly. The Slytherin side of the room was quiet, their fear of him enough to make sure that his was at least one class in which they behaved themselves. The Gryffindor side might have been verbally quiet, but there were generally more papers being shuffled, books being dropped, and stools screeching across the dungeon floor.

"Just. Sit. Still." Severus hissed at Neville Longbottom, who was jiggling his leg so violently that the murky green liquid in his cauldron rippled. Two rows behind the earthquake-causer sat Lily's eyes. Severus made it a point to look at every child... except for the owner of the green orbs.

The problem was that the hatred he'd felt during the last class had... lessened. It was difficult to look at the boy and see James Potter's arrogance after learning that the child had very little idea of his... celebrity... before coming to Hogwarts.

It was, of course, important to maintain his dislike of the boy. The snot-nosed child had taken his cover as a spy and his life. Not that his life had been going all that well, Snape thought to himself. But that was entirely beside the point. That Halloween night, Severus had stepped in front of the killing curse to protect the only semblance of family he'd ever hoped to have. And the rest of his world came crashing down.

After the initial shock of death, the afterlife had been anticlimactic. Teaching as a ghost was hardly different than teaching with a body. Being head of Slytherin House was actually the most challenging, mostly due to backlash from parents who believed that Severus was the reason their Lord fell that night.

Just part of it, Severus thought to himself. The other part sat in the third row.

Upon closer inspection, the boy actually looked like he might be trying. Maybe. His James-Potter-like features obscured any intelligent thought, of course, but the potion he was brewing at least looked on target. The simmering liquid was a pale blue, a far cry from Longbottom's calamitous green.

Snape's ire was mostly focused on Lily at the moment. How dare she allow her progeny to walk into the lion's den uninformed? He'd been sorted into a house that worshipped their heroes. They loved reckless crusades so much that dying that night at the Potters' had almost caused them to forgive Severus for the Dark Mark on his arm. The one that persisted, even after death. A grey, ghostly reminder of the trauma he'd endured.

"Bottle one ounce of your results," Snape directed the class. "Label your vial and place it on the desk. Clean your station, and then you are dismissed."

The Potions Master watched Harry come forward and place his sample on the desk. Snape picked it up in his long, ghostly fingers. "Mr. Potter. You will stay after."

Harry's eyes widened, but he went back to his table, scrubbing the crushed beetles off the desktop. Everyone else filed out of the room. Ron gave him a sympathetic look as he shouldered his bag and followed the rest of the Gryffindors out of the room.

When the room was empty, Severus perched himself, hovering above the edge of his desk. "Mr. Potter."

Harry wasn't sure what to say, but the older man's tone made him feel like he needed to respond somehow. "Yes, sir."

Severus regarded the child for a long moment. "It has come to my attention that you were... less than prepared for your time here."

Harry shifted awkwardly. "I read my books, sir, I swear. It's just that-

Severus held up a hand. "I wasn't referencing your lack of academic preparation, Mr. Potter." He frowned. "Although that was less than impressive. I was talking about the fact that most of the students here know more about you and you do."

Harry flushed, looking at the floor. "It's not really a big deal."

"I couldn't agree more," Severus said. "However, the rest of the world is full of fame-seeking prattlers. So," he was suddenly struck with an uneasy feeling. What he was about to do did not come naturally. "Knowing your parents, I would imagine that you received the rose-colored glasses version of that evening. So I am offering you one chance, right now, to ask any questions you would like. And then we'll never speak of it again."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Sir, I... I just..."

"As articulate as that was," Severus drawled, rolling his eyes, "it was not a question. Perhaps I should have provided you with more preparation time. Not that it helped the first day of classes."

Harry fought back the urge to yell something childish at the other wizard.

"My office, directly after dinner," Severus said suddenly. "Perhaps that will give you time to determine exactly what you wish to ask me." He pointed to the door. "Dismissed, Mr. Potter."

Harry found himself unceremoniously alone as the ghost stalked through the door to his office.

*H*P*

"Do you want me to... I dunno... wait outside in case he kills you?" Ron said nervously, when they reached Snape's office door.

Harry shrugged. "He didn't seem homicidal." He knocked on the portrait. A moment later, it swung open to reveal Snape.

"I don't believe I invited you, Mr. Weasley."

Ron backed up. "No, sir. I was... just leaving." The redhead turned and scurried away down the corridor.

"So much for Gryffindor courage," Severus sneered, stepping back from the opening. "Well? Hurry up. I don't have all night, you know."

Harry stepped inside, narrowly missing the door as it swung shut behind him. Severus floated over to his desk, standing in front of it and crossing his arms. "Sit," he ordered, nodding to one of the chairs.

Obeying, Harry sat, not at all sure how to start.

"Out with it," Severus said, thinking about how this was the time he usually liked to lean against the edge of his desk. Making a note to take his researching into providing a more corporal presence for ghosts more seriously, he raised an expectant eyebrow.

"Well," Harry squirmed a bit in his chair. "I guess... I'm not really sure I know enough to even ask a question."

Severus processed that for a moment. "That may be the most intelligent thing I've ever heard you say," he said finally. "And certainly more intelligent than anything your father has ever said."

"Why do you hate him?" Harry looked at his professor.

"I thought you didn't have any questions," Severus grumbled.

"It's just that you mention him a lot. And my mum. Mum says she invites you for Christmas every year, but you never come. How do you know them, anyway?" Once the words started tumbling out of his mouth, Harry seemed unable to stop.

Severus cursed the idea that had led them to this situation. He'd never invited a child to speak so frankly to him before, and he never planned on doing so again.

"Your mother and I grew up on the same street," Severus said, looking at a place over the boy's head. "And your father was at Hogwarts during the same time we were."

"So why do you hate him?" Harry pressed, emboldened by the fact he hadn't yet been killed.

"James Potter was not a pleasant young man," Severus said carefully. "I'm assuming that age has changed that. Or perhaps a lobotomy."

"What's a lobotomy?"

Severus shook his head. "Never mind. Your father and I did not get along, that's all." He was aware of his hypocrisy in this, demanding that Lily give her son all the information, yet withholding on just how bad James Potter had been as a teenager. But what good would it do to shake the child's vision of James? Severus knew what it was not to respect his father. It was isolating and unstable, and he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. Or on the son of his worst enemy, in this case.

"Were you at our house that night?" Harry asked, snapping Snape out of his thoughts.

Severus snorted. "I died there, Mr. Potter. I must have been there." Dunderheaded-

"I meant were you already there," Harry clarified. "You know, before... You-Know-Who came."

"Ah," Severus frowned a bit. "That is a different question, isn't it? No. I was not there already."

"So how did you know... That he was coming?"

Severus paused. He knew when he started this that they would eventually get to that question. Yet he'd successfully managed not to prepare for it.

"I was, at the time, a member of the Death Eater ranks. As a spy," he added quickly.

Harry seemed to process this quietly. Severus wondered vaguely where the boy got that from. James and Lily had never been quiet in their lives. Lily was as explosive as her hair, and James was always ready to run headlong into something insane.

"Why didn't you stop him before he got to the house?"

Full disclosure slipped further from Severus's plans. He would not tell Lily's eyes that the reason he'd waited until the Dark Lord was in the house because he'd hoped that James Potter would be the first casualty. He could hardly live with that knowledge himself.

That, really, was the reason that he'd never accepted Lily's invitations. He'd desperately wanted to see her, and believed that he could have lived with just being her friend... if he hadn't conspired to murder her husband.

They say that wizards that fear death become ghosts. Severus had never feared death. Until, at least, that night. Seeing that child in his crib made him feel like there was a special circle of Hell waiting for him. A little engraved nameplate- "Severus Tobias Snape- Murderer of the Father of an Innocent Child".

"I had to wait until the last minute," Severus improvised. "I didn't want to give away my position until the last possible minute." He paused. "I had no idea that you didn't really need me to protect you."

"The book didn't know why," Harry said. "It just said the spell rebounded."

"What book?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"The history book Hermione gave me."

"The frizzy haired know-it-all?"

Harry glared. "That's not nice."

Severus snorted. "I'm not nice, if you haven't noticed," he said. "No one knows why the spell rebounded. You are the only person ever to survive the killing curse. I imagine, if people knew why, there would be a rash of people ready to buy whatever would make them immune." He crossed his arms. "Any more questions?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess not."

"Well, then," Severus said awkwardly. "No more books about this, understand? You have a question, you come to me."

"I thought we weren't ever going to talk about it again."

Severus's expression darkened. "Are you questioning my orders, young man?"

Harry shook his head. "No, sir."

"Good," Severus said, opening the portrait. "Now get out, or you'll miss curfew. And I won't be writing notes so that you can hang out in the corridors with your little friends."

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded, grabbing his bag and heading out into the hall. "Goodnight, Professor."

Snape closed the door behind the boy with a loud click. And only then, did Harry hear a soft, "Goodnight, Mr. Potter."